The Lion and The Shark
by TheLostFoodie
Summary: A short fic about a semi-professional pool player named Lauren Lewis and the brunette that captures her attention. AU All human. Rated M. This is a one-shot only to help me get my writing mojo back.
_Author's Note: Hey Readers! It's been forever, I know! This is a one shot only - still working on that Beyond the Flame sequel but it's a horribly slow process with no end in sight yet - sorry! Hope you enjoy this random little BoLo fic that came about to help me break through some writer's block :)_

 _xxxxx_

 _Lauren's POV_

xxxxx

I had been perched behind the long table designated as my work space for the majority of the night, watching player after player falter with poor shots on the felt table top while the more elite advanced. I was not participating in the competition tonight but instead, I simply provided a knowledgeable voice to the commentary on air for a local radio station. I guess they wanted someone who understood the sport to talk shop on air for the few hours to fill an otherwise void. Considering I was the hometown girl who happened to have a small name in the professional billiards circuit, the sports radio host reached out to me for the favor. I didn't consider it a favor really; more so a paying job for the night as the paycheck was enough to fill my refrigerator for the week and pay the cable bill.

And so here I sat on what would have been an otherwise boring Saturday night, wearing big headphones and chattering away with Chad, the local radio sports show host who had been covering local high school football games and the occasional bar event for several years. He and I chatted quite a bit, but it was nothing more than conversation about billiards and shots and analysis of each match for the greater part of two hours.

The smell of popcorn and burgers became familiar after the first hour; it mixed perfectly with the toasty scent of old wooden ceiling beams and stale beer. On several occasions, I would glance over all the random sports memorabilia hanging on the walls, wondering if the layer of dust settled upon the tops of each frame was as old as the building itself. Mostly local high school sports photographs, newspaper clippings, and even a few trophies from random bar-sponsored teams from over the years. It triggered a strange memory of mine from long ago; perhaps I was in this bar back in my high school years and just failed to recall the details. Or it just reminded me of every other bar I had visited over time. It really was the epitome of a small town, very different from some of the cities I had been competing in recently. Not that I didn't love traveling from city to city, but there was something about a small, friendly home town bar that provided a comfort in me of which I had forgotten.

While I kept the majority of my focus on the four pool tables laid out before me, occasionally I politely shook hands with a spectator who stopped by the radio broadcast table to say they had watched me on television when I won a recent major professional pool tournament. I kept my smile planted firmly in place, thanking them for their recognition and support. No autograph requests came about however, which was fine by me. I much preferred to perfect my grip on a pool cue and not on an ink pen. A few folks even dropped the name of our high school and reminded me quickly that they were in graduating classes near mine. All in all, those interactions were pleasant and nothing became too awkward, for which I was grateful.

I drank a few beers before the matches started, adjusting the audio while I talked into the oversized microphone planted before me. Honestly, it was simple: I would throw out my opinions and expertise while the local folks shot a few rounds of pool. The station radio host seated next to me knew enough about the sport to carry on a decent conversation, and we even planned a playful banter to carry on throughout most of the matches. I would certainly be able to avoid too serious of a conversation as most of the players were just local folks who liked to shoot pool and had spent many Friday and Saturday nights of their adult lives sitting in this very bar. Honestly, it was refreshing: no cocky show offs like I dealt with in matches carrying a hefty cash reward. It would definitely keep my conversation positive, and I figured the two or three radio listeners out there would appreciate it.

Everything seemed set to kick off the night until I caught the sight of a woman across the bar and instantly felt parts of me awaken while other parts of me went numb. Unexpected? Absolutely, especially in a small town bar like this.

She stood of average height, leaning on the bar and chatting with one of the bar employees. She held a pool cue in her right hand, allowing it to rest on her foot while the tip pointed toward the ceiling. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders like something out of a movie, and her smile appeared award worthy. I stared at her simultaneously wishing she would look at me and also not look at me. Something beyond her beauty captivated me, so much that I immediately wondered everything about her: from the name given to her at birth all the way up to what she was doing in a local bar like this on a Saturday night. And despite the beer I had already consumed so far that night, a part of my brain made it a point to keep her in sight no matter where my focus was otherwise.

"Thanks again for doing this Lauren. It will be nice to chat on air with someone who knows the sport."

Chad's use of my name grabbed my attention, instantly pulling my gaze from that brunette beauty to the tired looking middle aged man to my left.

"Oh no problem Chad. Happy to help."

He shook his head side to side, brushing off my humble response.

"No, no, really. It's a huge help to me and to the station."

I smiled, grateful for his appreciation.

"You're welcome. Thanks for the paycheck doing it."

He laughed and then I laughed, but there was a lull of silence for a moment afterwards while the first matches were just about to begin. I allowed my eyes to drift back to that beautiful woman, who now appeared to be signing some paper at the bar while chatting with the bartender, making me even more curious as to who she was.

"So uh, Chad, how many people are competing tonight?"

Chad shuffled through a few papers before him, sliding one page in front of me.

"Uh, looks like sixteen. Single elimination at the four tables. Here is the bracket. Watch out for this guy…"

Chad tapped his finger on the fifth name in the list as he continued his statement.

"They call him Shorty and apparently he's a real whiz at this."

I raised my brow at Chad's use of the word "whiz". That was usually a term I'd hear to describe a math genius, not a pool player. But rather than argue, I figured I would let Shorty prove himself during his first match.

"Good to know. Thanks Chad."

I scanned over the names in the list, hoping to see a female's name that could possibly correspond with that brunette holding the pool cue. There was one person named Chris and one named Sam, both of whom could be female or male. Since there was really no way to know unless I marched over and asked her, I settled in to my seat and figured I would just have to wait.

It wasn't that long until the first four matches began, and boy did it keep me busy. It took me the greater part of that first round to learn most of the player's names who were set up at the four tables, and while Chris and Sam were in fact females, sadly both turned out to be women other than that knock out brunette. It also took me a bit to make sure I was commenting on the different matches equally, although I did make a point to chat a bit more about the match between Sam and Shorty when she completely annihilated him in the first round. Clearly someone defined as a whiz in pool didn't necessarily mean he was any good.

During one of our early commercial breaks, I watched that beautiful woman make her way from one part of the bar to another. She never let go of that pool cue, so I was still hopeful she was going to appear in the next set of matches. While she was too far away for me to recognize what she was saying, her body language, smile and laughter made her interactions with various others seem genuine and full of happiness. I felt my own smile growing wider the longer I observed her.

"Hey Chad, who are the folks in this next round? I'd like to get a head start on their names so I don't fuck up the commentary as bad as that first round."

Chad laughed with me. His laid back attitude was welcome, and even though I did have an ulterior motive for learning the names of these players in hopes of discovering that brunette, I did want to do a much better job of knowing one person from the next.

"Table one is Matt vs Jon. See that guy over there in the flannel shirt? That's Matt. The guy next to him is Jon."

"Damn they look like twins."

"That's because they are twins. Table 2 is Randy and some guy named Larry Mead. Randy was that guy who helped carry in the gear when we set up earlier. I have no clue who Larry Mead is. Um…let's see….oh Table 3 is Bo Dennis and Austin Masterson. That brunette over there with the tight shirt, that's Bo Dennis. She'll probably do well, but Austin Masterson usually holds his own…that's him over there with the blue ball cap on…so who knows on that match. And Table 4…"

I knew Chad was still talking, but my brain zeroed out on the rest of his words as my own mind realized that the brunette he called Bo Dennis was the same brunette who had caught my attention. Bo Dennis. _Bo Dennis_. The name was certainly on the list, but one I never pegged for a woman. I must have said her name inside my head at least twenty times, and each time I smiled a little brighter. I finally had a name to go with the face, and it was certainly not a name I would forget anytime soon.

The break ended shortly thereafter and the second round of matches were quickly underway. My on-air commentary began without flaw as the balls were racked and then scattered across the felt table tops. The crowd thickened inside the entire bar, where individuals tried to keep their drinks filled and watch various matches while claiming the best seats in the vicinity of the pool tables. The atmosphere seemed to build a bit more excitement, and I let that shine through in my on-air discussions.

Fortunately I chatted and chatted through most of the matches without faltering, yet my annunciation of everything ended up a mess when Bo Dennis would take a shot. Something in the way she moved paralyzed my ability to speak properly, and only then did I let Chad fill most of the airtime when my words caught in my throat. I admit that I even pushed for additional commercial breaks and drink refills during her match, as nothing made sense to me except for the urges surging through my hands every time I saw her smile or the weakness in my knees every time she leaned over that table.

I really had no idea where she came from. All I knew was that she was beautiful, a really good pool player, polite, sexy, and did I mention beautiful? Nothing in the past few years had given me a serious case of nervousness like she did. She may not have realized it, but every step she took turned me on; every smile she flashed pulled my attention to her. I may not have wanted to admit it, but I knew she was going to be trouble. The good kind of trouble I hoped.

Trying to hide my attraction to Bo Dennis, I paid careful attention to her shots. It was honestly like stalking; in fact, that's exactly how I'd define it. Nothing about the brunette's movements were careless or clumsy. Quite the opposite, every muscle movement and every angle she examined were calculated and completed with intent. To the rest of the bar crowd, she was merely a woman preparing to take her next shot at the billiards table. But to me, she was a lion living in that split second before she pounced on her prey and tore out its jugular. I found the image profound enough to hook me instantly: a meld of animalistic and exotic appeal that snagged my curiosity from the moment I laid eyes on her.

It wasn't often that just anyone caught my eye. Not like this anyway. Each step she took around the pool table confidently demanded respect. The way her muscles flexed against her tight leather pants; the slow tilt of her chin as she analyzed the perfect angle to sink her shot; even the loose grasp she held upon the pool cue. These mannerisms combined to create a feared opponent to all those who landed in her tournament bracket. Not only was I completely surprised to see such a talented, self-assured pool player at a small town bar tournament, but I was dumbfounded over my complete and utter failure to hide my attraction to everything about her.

She moved through the tournament brackets with ease as none of her opponents seemed to have any chance of beating her. Bo was not the only one who had a quality approach to the sport, and I admit I was a bit surprised at the talent pool before me. Even Chad mentioned that it was one of the better tournaments he had been to. The slight buzz I had from the beer mixed with the excitement in the atmosphere, creating a perfect combination to keep my attention invested in the entire event when I found strength to look away from the brunette. Honestly, it wasn't often I looked away.

Fortunately for me, Bo Dennis kept winning her matches, which meant I kept most of my focus on her. The break before the final match between Bo and a no-name guy allowed me a few free minutes to step away from the hard wooden chair I had been glued to for the past few hours. I needed to breathe, regroup and compose myself from all the strange feelings coursing through me.

A stop in the ladies' room was followed by a visit to the main bar where I accepted another cold beer, not that I needed one after the half dozen I had already consumed. I stretched my legs a bit, walking in an open space away from the pool tables while gripping my beer mug as to avoid any spills. The air felt cooler away from the crowd, and the sounds from the chatter were muffled enough to give my brain a moment of peace. But that moment was short lived as Chad found me and playfully tugged me back to the commentary table to finish my duties for the remainder of the night.

I was feeling really good, no great, and I felt even better when a bartender brought me a club sandwich and a basket of homemade, hot potato chips. With a simply uttered "on the house" she smiled and walked away, leaving Chad drooling over the late night snack only I received. Surely I smirked at him as I blushed, but being the kind hearted person that I am, I shared my sandwich and chips with him before slipping on my headset and repositioning the microphone in front of me.

The crowd quieted just a bit as the final match began. I was surprised that some sloppy drunk had made it into the final round against the stunning brunette who gave my now full stomach another wave of butterflies. Bo still looked as sharp as the first game she played hours ago. The nameless man wasn't even a reasonable opponent to offer her; he was barely able to stand while his slurred speech came out with sexist comments sprinkled into every sentence. I was impressed with Bo's ability to remain calm and not react, even as I felt my own blood boiling at his poor behavior. But perhaps the most impressive moment came when she finally indicated she had had enough of his antics, and rather than comment to him directly, she looked me dead in the eye, said "I think this has gone on long enough, don't you?" and ran the table down to the very last winning shot.

It was a long night that unfortunately flew by in the blink of an eye. I chugged a few glasses of water to calm my excitement that she won. I decided that I should congratulate Bo on her win but there was something inside me that could not shake the nervousness. I took a deep breath; it was only right to say something to the winner, right? I sat in that hard chair for a few moments longer as I took off my headphones, glancing over to her a few times while trying to find the right time to get up and say something to her.

She was busy chatting with some other players and random people while I half-assed assisted the radio host of packing up his supplies, recognizing my sweaty palms and rapid heartbeat had nothing to do with the food or drink from the night. I shoved wires into random plastic totes, keeping track of Bo's every move. Not that I was watching her or anything.

Truthfully, I watched her every movement like a hawk. I gulped the last of my glass of cold water, knowing exactly what was happening. Bo Dennis had caught my eye and I had to figure out what to do about it. Simply put, I was doomed: doomed from the start. I finally caught her in between conversations with other patrons and I dropped everything I was doing to walk over to her. I somehow mumbled out a half coherent "congratulations" and I was certain I blushed. Before she could even reply, Chad called out my name and asked me help wrap up the last of the microphone cords so he could bolt home.

I offered her a smile that she returned, weakening my knees to the point that I could have looked like that drunken buffoon she just whipped in the final round. Embarrassed at my behavior, I immediately turned to help Chad and that was the extent of our conversation. She went back to chatting with the thinning crowd as they slipped on their coats and exited through the front door, and I cursed Chad under my breath as I sealed up the last of the equipment containers.

This Bo Dennis: she was definitely a lion. One that could get into your mind with just a simple glance. One that would surely have a roar no other would disobey. Even during the brief moment when Chad handed Bo the pool tournament trophy, she caught me staring with what I was sure was drool running down my chin. Her smile made me feel like a gazelle that the lion was about to shred alive. Never in my life did I find the thought of death by lion so damn appealing, and never in my life did I want to run directly into the lion's den like I did at that moment.

Xx

 _One week later_

If my sofa would have been any more comfortable, I would have stayed on it all night. But the spring digging into my back made me accept an invitation out for a few beers with an old friend. It had been one hell of a long week figuring out a way to afford a few bigger circuit pool tournaments I wanted to get into, and while I shouldn't have been spending money on pizza or beer, I couldn't stand the thought of sitting at home binging on Netflix on yet another Saturday night.

Two hours into pizza and beer and I knew I had made the right decision. I had been smiling and laughing since the moment I sat down, and what a relief it was to feel so relaxed. Even when some other friends showed up and expanded our hang out time to a full blown reunion, I still felt relaxed and, well, happy. I felt happy and that made for one hell of a great surprise weekend night.

We drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of pizza, and drank a lot more beer. I knew I was in no shape to drive, so I opted for taxi with some of the others when we decided to bar hop and check out a new sports bar that my friends deemed to have "the biggest selection of imports in the entire universe." I felt awake and energized, so it was quite a simple decision to be game for a fun night out on the town.

Truthfully, the new sports bar was not all that great. Sure, the neon lights and copious amount of televisions gave it a certain appeal, but the service was lousy and I wasn't really in the mood to wait twenty minutes just to get a beer. Thankfully neither were my friends. So after one drink standing near a crowded corner, we decided to walk two blocks to an old dive bar that I hadn't been to in years. I was still having fun, and I wasn't quite ready to call it a night.

Before I stepped foot inside the bar, I could tell it was different from my visits here years ago. The crowd outside was a bit overwhelming, and it took us a minute to navigate through the haze of cigarette smoke just to get to the front door. When I thought the worst of it was over, I was sandwiched in between my friends as we tried to squeeze in to a space not meant for the amount of people already occupying it. The bar was three deep with customers trying to get their next cold one, and the cheering and hollering from the back of the room told me that one thing hadn't changed: the pool table must have had one hell of match going on.

I tossed a twenty dollar bill to my friend and told her to get us a few cold ones on me. She could barely hear me, but when I pointed toward the back of the room, she knew where I was heading and answered with a nod. I sidestepped the waiting crowd and found a path behind them all to get to the back of the room with more ease than I anticipated. There was a small circle formed around the lone pool table, but I squeezed in to the area gently enough that I was able to get a good view of the match. And what I saw was definitely not something I expected. Ever.

The one and only Bo Dennis stood opposite me, eying the table with the precision of an eagle. I immediately wanted inside her head, curious as to her thought process on the shot she was contemplating. I scanned the table quickly, recognizing a few combination shots that could potentially have her run the table and win the match without ever giving the other player another chance. But I didn't know her abilities well enough to know how she thought, and so quietly I stood there and watched.

I must have stood there for twenty or thirty minutes. Hell it could've been an hour. I learned a lot about Bo Dennis in that time. Her concentration was evident despite her trying to hide it with casual conversations with some folks across the room. Her grip on that pool cue was damn near perfect, as was her body in the outfit she was wearing. I tried to pay more attention to her talents on the table but damn if that tight leather vest wasn't pulling my attention to her cleavage on display. My mouth was horribly dry, and I wondered if I was ever going to get a cold beer or die of thirst, but there was no way I was about to walk away in search of my friends when that gorgeous brunette stood a mere ten paces away from me.

I probably would have stood there until she was done shooting pool or when the bar closed, but when she finally looked right at me and paused, I panicked. I felt like a voyeur caught with binoculars in hand. My face flushed red and I could barely swallow the little saliva I had left. I smiled, unable to do much else as my heart raced so hard I heard it in my ears. She narrowed her eyes a bit, the curiosity showing before she smiled in return. It was brief, but it was intense. A moment later and she was looking at the table, walking around it slowly as she examined the shot. She paused near me, her back immediately within arm's reach.

I finally found the ability to swallow the lump in my throat, not that anyone noticed. The crowd was thicker and louder now. It helped conceal the fact that I was staring at her ass as she bent over that table. I had one eye on her body and one eye on her shot as she wrapped up another incredible win. The entire moment felt all consuming. I suddenly felt like I was being suffocated, and the only thing I could do was get out of this small seedy bar.

Without thinking, I turned and made my way out of the crowd. I immediately saw my friends near the door, laughing and drinking like I had been doing with them earlier. My friend spotted me as I approached them, handing me a semi warm bottle of beer as I stepped into the group. They all threw questions at me as I chugged what happened to be the worst beer I ever consumed, but I never once stopped to answer their questions. I only kept drinking to quench my thirst and ground myself back to reality.

When the bottle was empty, I placed it on a nearby table and took a deep breath. I never did answer any of my friends' questions: only that I was ready to move on to another bar and get a better cold beer. Thankfully, none of them disagreed. They all finished their drinks and without any other real discussion about it, we walked out and proceeded down the street on foot to find another bar.

It was late, but not so late that the streets were empty. In fact, the streets were full of people just like me and my friends: happy, somewhat intoxicated people on their way to another establishment. We tried to not draw much attention to ourselves, but when my friend Andrew pulled a flask from his jacket pocket, I hooted and hollered with the rest of my friends over him holding out on us.

It didn't take long for the flask to make its way around the group. I was still really thirsty, and I probably drank more of that moonshine than I should have, but it immediately gave me back the buzz I had earlier and for that I was grateful. It also, however, gave me a wicked aftertaste in my mouth and I was definitely ready to get a cold beer and get rid of any reminder of that nasty but effective drink.

My determination to find a cold beer was probably why I didn't recognize the next bar we walked into until I was standing at the bar ordering a round. It was only then that the bartender welcomed me back and I paused to figure out exactly what she meant. As beers were lined up in front of me, I glanced around the room and nearly choked on the air I breathed as I saw the grouping of pool tables off to the side: the same group of pool tables I sat next to a week ago commentating on that small town tournament.

It was in that moment that everything slowed. Like I was watching a movie in slow motion and unable to speed it up. My heartbeat even slowed as I felt it barely beating in my chest. The crowd moved slower, the beers were lined up slower, and even the smile from the bartender, who I now recognized as the woman that gave me the club sandwich and chips, all happened in a slower motion that I was accustomed. Thankfully I already had my credit card in hand, so she took that right from my fingers as I stood there dazed at what this night had delivered to me so far. Not only did I see the beautiful Bo Dennis handle a pool table like a boss down the street, but here I stood, in the bar I first saw her at, and by damn did it make me feel things I didn't know how to control.

Fortunately for me, my friends made it a point to keep me in sight this time around. I soon found myself at a big table, drinking and eating some of those amazing homemade potato chips while I settled back into my groove of having a happy, relaxed night. It took a little bit to feel normal again, but I suppose the round of shots we drank shortly after one am could have been the icing on the cake for that. I couldn't deny that I was feeling good again, like I felt at the first bar we visited that night.

Overall, the fun and surprises I had that night balanced each other out. I never brought up Bo Dennis in conversation, but she certainly did stay in the back of my mind the rest of the night. I even lightly suggested we go back to that seedy bar, to which my friends all declined. If anything, that started the "goodnights" from my friends one by one, until they all had called it a night and left for home.

The bar music eventually stopped and the lights flooded the room. Even though I had eaten a ton of food and slowed my drinking for the past hour, I still planned on taking a cab home. After promising my last remaining friends that I would be fine getting home on my own, I returned to the bar bathroom for one last stop before I left as well. I was only in there for a few minutes before I washed my hands in cold water, hoping the shock of the temperature would help my regroup one last time before I headed home. It was a great night, and I was happy to say it worth the money spent.

I dried my hands on the course brown paper towels, giving myself a once over in the bar bathroom mirror. My eyes were a little glossy, but nothing a late night cup of coffee wouldn't fix when I arrived home. I tucked my blonde hair behind my ears and glanced at my watch. It was just past two a.m. and it was well past my bed time. I checked my wallet for cash to pay the taxi, tucked it in my front pocket, and took a cleansing, deep breath. It was time to get out of this bar, call a cab and call it a night.

I walked down the eerily quiet hall of the now closed bar and had one hand on the door knob to leave through the bar's front door when I heard her voice behind me.

"Leaving already?"

Her tone dipped as she finished that simple statement, creating a sadness in her voice that struck a nerve in me. Not the same nerve as the drunk guys who were overly confident and cocky at this hour, but that other nerve that made me want to quickly resolve the issue so I would never have to hear her voice so sad ever again.

Quickly I spun to my left, smiling and instantly blushing at the way Bo Dennis was staring at me. Her eyes were wide and directed at mine as her own smile spread across her face. I never was one to be bashful in the presence of a beautiful woman, but Bo was definitely not an ordinary beautiful woman. The way she smiled from her eyes as her shoulders relaxed brought forth a dimple that elevated my pulse enough to interrupt my breathing. I exhaled deeply, failing miserably at hiding her effect on me. I tried to find words but I couldn't even remember her question, so instead I simply looked away and laughed at myself, knowing the pink color creeping into my cheeks was getting darker by the second.

"Weren't you, uhhhh, weren't you at the other bar down the street tonight?"

I sounded like an idiot, and while all night I had wanted to follow her around, I suddenly felt as if she were now following me.

"Yes I was, but I'm here now."

I was confused. It was after hours so why would she be here now?

She showed her kindness by bailing me out, offering me one last escape before I ever uttered a word.

"I guess it is rather late, past closing time and all, but, well, I'd love to pick your brain about pool sometime."

Her voice captured my attention like a siren, and it was in that moment I realized that her voice was the only sound in the entire bar. Looking around, the lights previously flooding the room were now dim, and not another soul was present. The patrons had left and the bar felt like a ghost town. There weren't even any employees behind the bar.

I should have known a puzzled expression crossed my face. It was a habit I never could break in all my years. Friends and family said I could never play poker because of it, and clearly I couldn't even hide it now.

Bo, however, was smooth and graceful. Even as I stood there floundering to say anything while a thousand thoughts ran through my mind, she stepped in and saved me further embarrassment.

"So I know it is closing time, but I own the place, so if you'd like to stay and chat, uh, maybe I can pick your brain and offer a cup of the best hot coffee available at this hour."

My mouth was dry like the desert. I even tried to swallow and I almost choked. At this point however, I showed no further embarrassment than I already had. Hell, my face had already turned red and I had not said anything constructive to Bo beyond congratulating her on her tournament win last week. Fortunately, some reserve power deep inside my mind began beeping and flashing red lights, forcing my brain to start working again and regroup. With that, many words flooded to the forefront at once.

"Oh you own the place? Nice. And sure coffee would be great. And yeah, you can pick my brain. What would you like to know?"

I didn't realize I would sound nervous, but the spewing of words came out all jumbled. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, officially announcing that I had lost all my suave and was now nothing but smooth like sandpaper.

Yet once again, Bo showed her charm. She smiled and walked toward me with a few slow steps, and that's when I saw her reaching her left hand toward my waist.

Her hand.

My waist.

I held my breath, not quite sure what this woman was about to do. The motion of her hand coming at me, and my curiosity of what it would feel like to have her hand on my hip, forced all air to halt from entering or exiting my lungs. Wide eyed I stared at her leaning toward me, the surges of wants and needs flooding through me from head to toe. It was like waiting for a photo finish in a race. Her eyes were deep swirls of chocolates and I was mesmerized as if I was under hypnosis. She was less than one pace away from me and I thought I should reach for her; grab her and press my lips to hers. Even my fingers tingled and the hair on the back of my neck felt electric.

It was in that moment of trying to decide how to react that I heard a "click" instead of feeling her hand anywhere on me. My eyes were locked on hers when I heard another click behind me. I somehow escaped my trance and glanced down at my side to see Bo's hand on the door lock.

Two door locks.

Two clicks.

Lightheaded, I exhaled and quickly inhaled to replenish the oxygen I stopped taking in moments ago when I thought…eh…it doesn't matter what I thought. All that mattered was that Bo locked the bar door and my entire body felt robbed of the feeling I thought I was about to have.

"Hi. I'm Bo Dennis."

She laughed lightly at offering her first official introduction to me, even though I clearly knew who she was. I smiled and forced myself to keep breathing.

"Hi Bo Dennis. I'm Lauren Lewis."

She offered a simple nod and a smile before she stepped away from me. Slowly she turned toward the bar, returning my focus to the moment: focus I used to stare at her ass until she walked around the bar and robbed me further of the view. I quickly walked up to the bar, listening to her reply to my questions while she fiddled with the coffee pot.

"So to answer your earlier question: yes I've only owned this place for about a year now. Not really something I even thought I'd do with my life, but eh, it is what it is. The great part is I can shoot pool whenever I want."

Her glance to the pool tables behind me was brief before she closed the top of the coffee machine and pushed the red button.

"It's a nice place, and who can complain about having access to pool tables like that? I can tell you've practiced – you're very good."

Her genuine smile made my heart jump, so much that I stopped fidgeting with my hands and sat down in a bar stool while I waited for this amazing cup of coffee she promised.

"Thanks. I'm nowhere near as good as you though."

I was quick to stop her from making comparisons. It was certainly never a good start to meeting a woman because yes, I was really good at the game and if there was one thing I learned over the years, it was to never make a woman think she could win against me.

"Well thank you, but it's been the sole focus of my entire life for quite some time."

Bo pulled two clean coffee mugs from the shelf and placed them on the bar between us. She folded her arms and nodded.

"I am well aware."

Her statement confused me enough to make me pause and ponder. How would she know much about my focus? Clearly she saw me a week ago providing commentary on the tournament, and tonight she caught me watching her at the neighboring bar, but I decided to probe further on it.

"I wasn't aware you knew who I am."

She smiled and looked down momentarily.

"You are _the_ Lauren Lewis, River Heights, right?"

I narrowed my eyes and looked at her while my smile begged for answers. Like how did she know my association with River Heights? I mean, it was so long ago. I had barely graduated high school and took off from this area when that strange night in River Heights happened. I barely mentioned it to anyone over the past fifteen years. Like people knew, but no one really knew. But Bo, well, clearly she knew.

My reaction denied me the opportunity to lie, and so I stuck with the truth and replied.

"You know about that?" I asked playfully.

Suddenly, it was Bo who wore the blush. She turned away and reached for the coffee pot: a move I was sure served as a distraction while she composed herself.

"Well yeah. Um, my, uhh, an old friend of mine lived over in River Heights and I used to hang out there a lot back in the day. The story of 'Lauren Lewis: girl from Maple High who hustled an entire bar for over a grand' was a story that stuck around for quite some time."

We both laughed. Her word choice was accurate. I did hustle an entire bar for over a grand. I faked beginner's luck through three decent pool players and the stakes kept getting higher and more locals kept throwing in money. I won, my talents exposing themselves after that third match. I took their money, excused myself to the bathroom, and escaped through the bathroom window so I wouldn't get mugged on the way out the door. It was that money that let me stay on the road and practice my skills more and more. I never did go back to that town for fear of retaliation, but clearly I had made a name for myself there well before I made a clean name in the professional circuit.

"Well yes you caught me. I am that Lauren Lewis. Wow, the phrase "River Heights" isn't something I've heard in a very long time."

Bo slid me a full cup of coffee, offering sugar packets and powdered creamer that I declined. I sipped the black coffee just in its naked form, enjoying the hot liquid finally helping rid me of a horribly dry mouth.

"It's not a place I've been to in over a decade really, but I figured it had to be you. I mean, what are the odds that two women named Lauren Lewis became pool sharks?"

We both laughed again. The ease of the air surrounding me was welcome. I felt completely comfortable with Bo, not in a way that I was feeling earlier as I drooled over her from afar.

"Well I don't really think of myself as a pool shark, but I do know a thing or two about the sport."

Bo put her coffee mug on the bar and shook her head. There was a sinister look in her eye as she walked away, rounding the corner of the bar and approaching me from the same side upon which I sat. God I was so hooked on her already. Her sway just from walking pushed my heart to beat faster, and I had to set my own coffee cup on the bar in fear of dropping it.

That's when it happened. The same approach toward me that happened earlier while standing next to the front door was happening again. Bo made a bee line directly for me and I knew she wasn't reaching for another lock on a door knob. I truly had no idea what she was about to do, but once again I held my breath despite needing more air and watched her hand reach toward me in slow motion. But this time, oh this amazing wonderful time, her hand grabbed mine.

Electric. That's what it felt like. I was being electrocuted in this bar stool by the most beautiful woman possible, and goodness it felt amazing. The way her hand tightened on mine and the way she pulled on it commanding me to stand. The grip was strong and the woman had no intention of letting go. She tugged me behind her, and I nearly fell over my own feet trying to maintain a semblance of balance as I walked across the room.

Yes, I stared at her ass for the nine seconds it took to walk through the bar. I only lifted my gaze upward once we stopped by the pool table and she released my hand. The loss of her touch made the earlier electrocution feel like a reward, but I stood there still in a state of surprise as she turned to face me.

"Yes you do know a thing or two about it, and I want you to show me how to sink a few shots I keep messing up."

If I had a dollar for every time someone wanted me to teach them how to shoot pool, I'd be a millionaire. But Bo knew how to shoot pool as I had witnessed it first-hand earlier that night. I raised both palms to protest her request, but she denied me any opportunity to say no when she immediately began to explain.

"Before you say no, I promise it's just a few! You watched me play tonight and last weekend, and I know that if anyone caught on to the shots I struggled with, it was you. I promise I won't keep you long and I'm just a girl asking you kindly from the bottom of my heart: I'll even say please if it would help."

Bo's smile followed that statement. It traveled right through my eyes, shocking my heart into beating way faster than usual before traveling further south and triggering all sorts of other feelings in me. This woman captured my attention like a rare positive headline news story. I really hated giving pool shooting advice, mostly because those that asked could rarely understand physics and angles with shots. But Bo, on the other hand, could definitely understand pool lingo. She proved it with the way she played, and won, the tournament last week and how she ruled the table tonight. And honestly, the way she asked me, all innocent and charming, well hell: she could've asked me to help her mop the damn floor and I would have easily caved.

I couldn't even play hard to get with this. I simply smiled and nodded toward the table, bringing her excitement out ten-fold.

"Where do you want to start?" I asked.

It was just like that. I gave in and Bo's joy was visible immediately. She moved toward the table and started rolling the balls to the center of the table. She talked quickly while she racked every ball she pulled from each pocket. I intentionally focused on her words, knowing any distraction to her body and movements would surely make me miss every word she said. I even forced myself to look at the pool cue selection in order to keep my eyes from wandering over her.

It was challenging. The tactic worked very well initially, but I had moments when I stared at her chest or her ass. It was a very real struggle to refrain from a certain line of naughty thoughts, but fortunately her billiards related questions required my full attention so that I could provide adequate answers. I was surprised by the questions Bo asked of me, mostly because they were unique situational questions that most general bar-going pool players wouldn't really spend much time dwelling on. I couldn't deny I enjoyed a nerd out moment here and there when it came to pool, and Bo really seemed to enjoy hearing my thoughts on each of the situations she inquired about.

We didn't really shoot an actual round of pool while we chatted. Mostly Bo would move a ball here or there, and I would show her a few approaches based on positioning of her two subsequent shots that would follow. I'd demonstrate a shot and she would then attempt to repeat it. I wasn't joking when I said she was very good. Bo could watch me take a shot and she could instantly complete the same shot. Not many people could do that, and needless to say, I was extremely impressed.

It wasn't until she tried to slow a shot simply for positioning that she struggled. Like the previous shots, I demonstrated it once before she tried to repeat it. But unlike all the previous shots, this one she missed. She smiled and shrugged but did not relent, simply reaching for the ball and repositioning it for attempt number two. And on the second attempt, she missed again.

I circled the table and rolled the ball back to her.

"Thanks," she said quietly as she set the shot up for the third time. She lined up the cue ball and lowered her pool cue, both hands holding a standard grip. Her eyes glanced from the cue ball to the ball in her line of sight, checking the angle carefully. I could see her mind at work as she leaned her head slightly to the left before returning centered in line with her shot.

And then she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, wearing her concentration on her face in such a sexy yet adorable way that I felt compelled to make sure she didn't miss this shot for a third time. After all, third time always was the charm.

"Wait," I said quickly.

She looked up without moving, watching me carefully as I walked around the table to where she stood. I knew this move was playing with fire, but I could see what she was doing wrong and showing her the correction would be easier than explaining it. At least I hoped that is how she would see it.

Keeping in the mindset of helping Bo in the best way I could, I stepped behind her and placed my left hand on her left shoulder. It was warm like a summer day and I had to gulp in order to hold in the gasp I wanted to let out.

"Try this…"

I barely whispered those two words as I reached my right hand to the pool cue in her grasp. With the slightest change in angle and in the raised elevation of the back end of the stick, I adjusted her to the proper form. I didn't want to move away from her. Our closeness felt so intense, and the fact that I was helping her with her game only elevated my excitement.

I kept my left hand on her shoulder but released my right hand from the cue and strangely she did not protest my position as she concentrated on the shot she was about to take. I watched over her shoulder, making certain the angle stayed damn near perfect while she analyzed the layout on the table. A few seconds honestly felt like an eternity as she took a few breaths and carefully eyed the shot.

I couldn't see her face from this position but I imagined the look of determination melding with the utter sex appeal Bo carried with just a smile. My hand was still gently resting on her shoulder and just that simple connection was heating me to the core.

She slid the pool cue forward and the moment she connected with the ball, I knew she made the shot. The speed, the angle, the follow through: everything was perfect. I smiled before the ball dropped in the corner pocket, knowing it was impossible for that ball to miss.

Bo knew it too. She relaxed her posture after the cue connected with the ball. I felt it in the way her shoulders dropped slightly before the ball finished its roll to the edge of the table and fell directly in the pocket. I was happy to see Bo succeed and make the shot.

My hand remained on her shoulder until she stood upright and turned around. The brilliant smile she wore was more than a thank you. It was a thank you and an expression of joy. It made me smile even wider despite the fact that my hand was no longer resting on her shoulder.

Bo pumped her fist in the air once. "Yes!"

"Great shot, Bo."

She leaned her pool cue against the table, looking back to the shot she just made before returning her attention to me.

"Thanks! Damn I never knew that variation in angle for the height could make such a difference."

"Well, now you know."

I blushed while looking at her. Her smile lit up the room. Not just her smile, but her happiness. I know it was just pool, but I understood how it felt to figure out a shot. To me, it was always very rewarding, and I sensed Bo felt the same.

"You are a very good teacher, thank you."

Bo's compliment further stirred something inside me. I didn't need the compliment but I couldn't find my words to say anything in return. Honestly, I was so frazzled by my inability to communicate with her like a mature adult that I stepped away from her. I felt like a fool really, not able to speak or breathe in an appropriate way. I didn't know why she made me feel this way, but all I knew was that Bo Dennis was standing in front of me and I wanted her so much that I had to look away.

I leaned against the pool table, taking a deep breath and looking at those dusty framed newspaper articles on the wall. I didn't get to scan them from afar beyond a short moment because Bo stepped in front of me, positioning herself directly in my line of sight. I shifted my eyes over her shoulder, trying to keep my composure but she made it very clear that she wanted me to look at her when she placed her fingertips on my chin and pulled my gaze back to her.

"It's okay to take a compliment, Lauren."

I smiled at how soft and gentle her voice sounded. Just as soft and gentle as her fingertips touching my skin. I stared at her eyes, deeply feeling the pull of my wants and my needs growing stronger by the second. Her expression showed a mix of happiness and curiosity while still maintaining a hint of that lion's gaze I recognized the first time I laid eyes on her. I had this instant attraction to Bo that was only growing stronger, and I had to do something about it.

Tell her maybe? Or flirt? I opted to flirt but when I opened my mouth to speak, all I could do was smile. She smiled back at me, glancing down at my lips as she licked her own. I inhaled sharply, loud enough that I was certain she heard it. I couldn't help but grip the edge of the pool table in hopes of figuring out how to advance this in the direction I wanted. The silence felt infinite, so much that I glanced at Bo at least three times before anything else was said. I wasn't sure why this was hard for me. I knew exactly how to entice a woman, and I knew exactly how to prove my own worth but truthfully, the level of nervousness I felt in that moment transcended all my knowledge and all my experience. In that moment, I felt like a virgin who just saw a naked woman for the first time.

When she glided her fingertips over my shoulder, I kept my eyes fixed on hers. The smile upon her face told me everything I wanted to know. As her hand trailed down my arm slowly, I quickly gathered some semblance of confidence. Just her touch gave me a confirmation that the feelings I was having were not merely one sided. Her eyes spoke volumes, so much that I swear she was losing her resolve faster than I.

I know what happened next, but I don't really know what happened next. There was sexual tension, and then there was hovering on the brink of orgasm while the grip I held on the edge of the pool table tightened to the point my knuckles turned white. My focus failed except for recognizing Bo's hands in my hair and her lips on mine. The heat of her body quickly pressing into mine flushed my face red. I didn't breathe, instead I simply tightened my hold on the table's edge and forced my legs to not buckle. Bo exhaled a breath that lit a fire in my soul. Here I stood, with this gorgeous brunette making a move on me and I had yet to return the kiss or the hold on her body.

I imagine it was shock that she made a move on me while I was trying to figure out the move to make on her, but I had wasted enough time not returning the kiss so I instantly reacted. I grabbed her hips and pulled her into me. Fierce and needy, I opened my mouth and slid my tongue into hers. The action pulled moans from us both but in no way slowed our movements. Quite the opposite, it pushed us faster: faster breaths, faster moving hands, faster tugs and pulls on shirts and leather vests. She had pushed open the door I had spent all week wondering how to get in, but now it was my turn. A surge of energy awakened my need to have Bo in any way I wanted, and to me that meant taking control and steering her in the direction I wanted.

I yanked my lips from hers, not hesitating as I dipped to her neck and sucked hard against the skin. With incredible strength, I stepped into her and pushed her backwards enough to free myself from the trap of the pool table and her body. With a pivoted step, I reversed our positions, pushing her ass against the edge of the pool table and smothering the front of her body with mine. I swiped my tongue over the dark mark I just left on her neck, biting playfully in the very same spot as this need to show some type of possession over Bo rose up from somewhere unknown inside me.

I had already shed her leather vest, and my fingertips found the edge of her tank top underneath and slid it quickly up and over her head. I bit hard against her skin again; hard enough that she moaned and whispered something about being careful not to leave any visible marks. It was already too late for that. I tried to memorize her skin as I slid my hands over her stomach and back, but my focus was too far gone on touching her everywhere at once. My lips had made their way to the valley between her breasts and good god I wanted to spend eternity nearly suffocating in this space. Her push up bra created an incredible amount of cleavage that I wanted to smother with attention. I even brought my hands into the mix, grabbing her breasts as I pulled off her bra. I knew she liked it a lot in the way her hands pulled my head against her chest as quiet moans escaped with each and every breath she took.

My panties were drenched so much I could feel it between my legs. I even rocked my hips into Bo a few times as I felt this incredible desire to quench some small bit of my needs while taking care of hers. I moaned against her nipple the moment I pulled it into my mouth. Unable to comprehend much beyond how hard it became against my lips, I toyed with it in every way I knew how. Sucking it, biting it, swirling my tongue around it. Everything about Bo's breasts were perfect. They were big: a whole handful each, and judging by Bo's shallower breathing, they were also extremely sensitive.

That animalistic side of me pushed me lower, swiping my tongue over her abdomen to her belly button. I was almost on my knees when I smelled her arousal through her jeans. I pushed my face between her legs, inhaling deeply through the barrier currently between me and Bo's richest treasure. I hooked my hands inside the waistband of her pants, pulling her into my face as I took a second deep breath and pushed my chin against her just hard enough to tease what I knew was a very hardened nub just waiting for me to please her.

Bo's hands fell to my shoulders but they didn't hold me in place. Instead, I stood up quickly to find her lips again. I couldn't stop the arousal growing in me. It became all-consuming to the point where, had she stopped me from proceeding further, I may have had a heart attack from the buildup inside me. Fortunately, Bo only encouraged me forward as her fingers worked to remove the clothing I wore from the waist up. I only stopped kissing her briefly to shake off the last of my shirt then toss it on the pool table.

When her lips collided with mine again, Bo's own aggressive stance came out to play. Her tongue was in my mouth and did not show and sign of leaving, not that I would have ever stopped her. But kissing Bo did propel my arousal to galactic levels. I could feel muscles inside of me reacting uncontrollably. I wanted to feel Bo just as aroused, and I was confident she would not disappoint.

When I grabbed her belt buckle, she gasped into my mouth. Not in a fearful or bad way, but in a way that told me she was so sensitive I would likely make her come before I even got her pants off. The thought made me smirk and my confidence soared. With ease I slipped the leather out of the buckle, unbuttoned the sole button on her jeans and slid the zipper down. I rocked into her once more and she responded by rocking back into me, triggering another wave of needs and wants to flood through my already intoxicated mind.

With both hands I slid her jeans and panties down to her thighs in one swift motion. Running my hands over her ass and hips, the feel of her skin against my fingertips did very naughty things to me. When she pulled her lips away from mine to catch her breath, I did not relent. I bit along her chin and jaw line, reveling in the way her breasts felt pressed against mine and how her hands felt clawing into my back.

Waiting no longer, I nudged Bo's pants further down her legs. She kicked off her shoes without bending over, allowing me a greater ease of getting those pesky pants off her body. I was nearly on my knees again, tugging the last of her bright red panties and dark blue jeans from around her ankle as I looked up and over her completely naked it body. She was the stuff dreams were made of, really, and I was not about to waste any time in taking full advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity to enjoy a moment that felt like a dream come true.

I ran my hands quickly up her legs as I knelt facing her. I swiped my tongue against her, the instant taste and scent bringing forth moans from us both for very different reasons. I knew she wanted me just where I was at as both her hands anchored my head in place and her hips gently bucked against my face. I couldn't get enough of her really. She was excessively wet and I loved every minute tasting her. My hands roamed over her: up her thighs, around her hips, up her back, over her breasts. There was not one inch of her I wanted to miss touching in some capacity, but a part of me just couldn't seem to touch her fast enough.

I sucked her hard into my mouth, flicking my tongue against her so quickly that her knees began to buckle as she lost strength. As hard as it was to tear my mouth away from her, I did. I stood up quickly and wrapped my hands around the backs of her thighs, urging her on to the pool table. The moment her ass was on the felt table top, I looked her in the eye and became lost in the view.

Her intoxicated state surely matched mine as her eyes were glossy and hazed over, a mix of alcohol and arousal overwhelming her. She pulled me to her, crashing her lips against mine once again and palming my breasts in way that sent additional surges between my legs. I pushed her knees wide and moved my lips to her chest. The kisses I trailed down her breasts and abdomen were pulling quiet sounds from her, urging me to continue. She scooted back just a hair, enough that her feet pushed against the table's rails as her legs were open for me. I bent forward and slid my tongue inside her quickly, triggering my own legs to feel slightly unstable as I needed to bring her release as well as feel my own. Her thighs quivered until I wrapped my arms around them, effectively anchoring myself to her body and giving Bo every bit of skill my tongue and mouth knew how to give. I wanted more of her; all of her. I simply could not get enough of Bo Dennis, and fortunately for me, she was in no hurry to make me stop.

I licked and sucked Bo through two orgasms without stopping. She came so hard it trickled down her skin. I ran my tongue over her enough to enjoy learning all the ways she liked my mouth on her: along the edges of her opening and swirling around her clit before I pulled it completely into my mouth and sucked on it. She moaned louder when I pressed my face against her harder, and she bucked her hips against my mouth right before she came both times. I could have easily lived in that space between her legs until I passed out from exhaustion, which wouldn't have been for hours because I enjoyed it that much.

Bo enjoyed it too, making it clear she was nowhere near done with me when I felt her grip on my arm. She had little energy to move but she definitely found enough strength to pull me on top of her. I mostly stumbled on to her and the top of that pool table. The bare skin of her torso pressing against mine sent further jolts of arousal through me. She moaned the minute she tasted herself on me, and I couldn't stop my hips from grinding against her as we kissed. The damn jeans still covering my body were in the way, but I was so into her that I did not want to stop lathering her with attention just to take them off.

My head was swimming blissfully in this moment. Everything about it was hot. I was in the middle of having sex with the hottest brunette on the planet and we were on a pool table. While this probably wasn't a fantasy for many people out there, it sure as hell was one of mine. And I certainly did not want it to end any time soon.

I bit down on Bo's neck again when I felt a moan about to betray my composure and escape across my lips. Bo's nails were digging into my lower back, urging my thrusting hips against her thigh pressed between my legs. The incredible feelings flooding through me kept getting sidetracked by my concern for Bo. Was this felt table giving her rug burn? Were my jeans pressing against her naked body irritating her? One question after another fought with each and every moan she made; with each and every heavy breath that carried my name from her lips. But despite my skyrocketing need for release, my need to put her first won out.

I stopped my hips and kissed her lips gently, opening my eyes to stare at her as I tried to slow our movements. She kissed me harder, once then twice, and only then did she open her eyes to look back at me. I saw the curiosity, or perhaps concern, for the momentary pause in my actions and that pushed me to explain before she could formulate any incorrect assumptions.

"This can't be comfortable for you," I whispered quietly.

She smiled immediately, and I could sense the relief in her body just by how she felt against me.

"Well I'll probably have a few marks for sure, but nothing I can't handle."

Her words were just as gentle as mine, but playful as well. I still needed her to touch me, and I was not anywhere near done touching her, but the positions we both held were soon to be a thing of the past. I placed one more kiss to her lips: the kind of kiss that ignites a fire by the level of passion pushed into it. I kept her locked in that kiss as I shifted my weight to my elbow and rolled off her, somehow moving into an awkward seated position on the side of my leg as I pulled her upward with me.

She followed my lead through several movements, never once pulling her lips from mine as our kissing held pace. We had scooted to the edge of the pool table when Bo returned to a standing position on the floor. I was about to follow when she stopped me, my feet dangling over the edge by nowhere near touching the floor.

"Uh uh uh," she whispered into my mouth during a kiss.

And that's when I felt her hands on my jeans, pulling the button and lowering the zipper. I held my breath yet again, feeling the effects of her touch pushing me toward the brink of unconsciousness. All I could do was hold on to her shoulders as her hand pushed between my jeans and my body. I used her as an anchor to reality when I felt this moment was so perfect it must have been a dream, but the way she felt in my grasp was more realistic than the pool table I sat upon.

My legs were pushed wide with her standing between them, and while the jeans weren't quite the most baggie pair I owned, they were roomie enough for her hand to fit inside them and finally dip her fingers where I had needed to feel them more than anywhere else.

Magic.

There was pure magic in her moan when she felt how wet I was for her. Her lips were working along my neck and my ear when she pressed two fingers into me. I jerked my hips toward her, wanting more friction from her as she teased me so perfectly. I could barely function. Nothing had ever felt this good before. Not the women of my past; certainly not any fantasy or dream that filled many quiet nights at home. Truthfully, this moment felt better than any pool game I had ever won, and that was the telling sign of exactly what Bo Dennis was doing to me.

I felt her fingers slide out of me and rub the one part of my body that screamed for her louder than all the rest. I wrapped my arms around her and had very little time to realize the orgasm ripping through me started in my center and spread to the very edges of my body. It overwhelmed me; consumed me. I screamed hard and loud in short bursts while I squeezed my eyes shut. Good god it felt amazing to live in that moment. She didn't slow one bit as I came, pulling her lips back to mine as I needed more of her while I rode out that incredible feeling.

Only when her touch was too much for my sensitive bundle of nerves did I reach for her hand and slow it. She understood my request without words and removed her hand from inside my pants while all I could do was kiss her, attempt to regain more oxygen in my lungs, and whispered _wow_ under my breath at coming undone at the hands of Bo Dennis.

xxxx

For the second time that night, I stood inside the same bar bathroom staring at my reflection in the mirror. I finished drying my hands with more coarse brown paper towels while feeling a mix of excitement and exhaustion. After tossing the used towel in the trash, I looped my fingers in my shirt collar and pulled it away from my neck, trying to get a better look at my bruised skin in the mirror's reflection. The smile that overtook my face was cocky in every sense of the word. This was a mark I would proudly wear as a reminder of just how amazing my night had been.

Behind me, the bathroom door pushed open and in walked Bo. She was fully clothed and still wearing that smile I first put on her face hours ago. I kept my eyes fixed on her in the mirror and she walked up behind me, resting her chin on my shoulder and slipping her hands around my waist until her palms rested against my stomach.

"If you're admiring the mark I left on your neck, I should warn you that I also left one on your hip from the third or maybe fourth round."

Her confident tone shined in this dimly lit bathroom. I slid my hands over hers as I turned to kiss her cheek, all the while smirking at her comment. The truth was, I had found that other mark when I put my pants on, and it was actually twice as bad as the one on my neck.

"Yes I noticed, thank you for that," I replied.

She laughed and tightened her hold on me. We both looked forward, staring into the mirror at one another. A simple evening of a going out with friends turned into a limitless night of pleasure that lasted until dawn. But the truth was, I was Lauren Lewis: a roaming pool player who had nothing more to offer Bo Dennis than nights like tonight. I had no real money or no real future. And the further truth was that I knew nothing of Bo Dennis beyond her body, her beauty, and her bar. So in this suddenly awkward moment, I felt like I had to say something, but I also feared that the first person who broke the silence would lose: say the wrong thing or say a lie. I also knew that the moment one of us said anything, the night was over and I really didn't want it to end.

Not yet.

And so I had to make a decision. I stared at her deep brown eyes in that mirror as she stared into mine, daring one another to speak first. And as I, Lauren Lewis, always had a soft spot for being considerate of others, I made a mental decision to speak first. If I threw myself under a bus with whatever words spewed from my mouth, well, then I would just have to face the consequences of it.

"So, um, about that coffee offer from earlier in the night…"

She laughed, throwing her head back slightly before returning her chin to my shoulder.

"Uh yes, the coffee I let you take one sip of before dragging you to the pool table."

I nodded.

"Yes that coffee," I replied. "Since I only got one sip of it, what are the odds I could get a fresh cup?"

I kept my tone playful but my heart was racing. I really didn't want to end this poorly or suddenly, but I was no savant at ending a night with a beautiful woman. In fact, I'd say it was a huge flaw of mine. But this approach seemed to work well as she responded more positively than I could have anticipated.

"Well I just happened to have started a new pot since you were in here taking so long. So I'd say those odds are definitely in your favor."

I raised my brow and smiled. Inside, my heart was leaping and bounding over something as simple as hot coffee as the perfect excuse to spend more time with a beautiful, sexy brunette.

"Excellent. Must be my lucky day," I replied.

She shook her head side to side as she stepped back and away from me. The tug on my hand turned me toward her and in a flash my back was against the wall with Bo standing against me. She stared me down hard but did not move beyond a breath away from me.

"I don't believe in luck," she whispered.

My heart was pounding. Her drop in tone sent my arousal on another upward climb. I gulped hard, not quite sure which direction she was heading with this but I played along until I could figure out exactly what she was trying to say.

"Oh?" I asked.

She shook her head again.

"Nope."

I stared into her eyes, glancing at her lips as she licked them and signaled a hunger brewing in her to match the one growing in me.

"What _do_ you believe in?" I asked, hardly able to speak from the dry feeling in my mouth.

She smiled, easing the sexual tension just slightly. After a gentle, more caring kiss to my cheek, Bo stepped away from me and led me out of the bathroom. I felt an awesome type of sore in my muscles, thrilled that I was still able to walk after such a rigorous night.

We silently walked down the hall to the bar. I was still insanely curious if she was going to answer my question but she apparently had other things in mind so I refrained from asking again. Instead, I simply followed her until she dropped my hand when I stood next to the bar stool I sat perched on hours ago. I took that as a sign to sit down, which I did as she walked around the bar to resume the same position she was in the night before serving me my first cup of coffee. I patiently watched her movements, enjoying the little things, like the way her hair swayed across her shoulders as she walked, or the way her shirt rode up slightly when she reached for two clean coffee mugs. The sight definitely made me smile, and even when she caught me staring, Bo said nothing but simply smiled in return.

I accepted the hot cup of fresh coffee she slid in front of me, immediately nodding my thanks to her as I sipped it and enjoyed the familiar taste. My body was still buzzing from that mix of exhaustion and excitement, and I was sure adding caffeine in the mix could literally make my hands shake. She sipped her coffee as well, staring at me over the rim of her coffee mug with her own curious expression.

"What?" I asked.

"Hmmm?" She replied with a smile.

It was clearly a technique to delay a response because that smile was devious at best.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" she asked.

I sipped more of my coffee, replying as I placed the half empty mug back on the bar's surface.

"Like you're a lion and I'm a gazelle," I replied.

She laughed out loud and her face flushed red. The ease of banter between us was welcome and comfortable, like I had known her for years.

"A lion and a gazelle, huh?"

I nodded. "Uh huh, a lion who is about to pounce on an unsuspecting gazelle."

I knew my word choice would dare her to reply, and she made no qualms about speaking her mind quickly.

"I'd hardly call you unsuspecting, Lauren."

"Oh is that what you think?" I asked.

My carefree tone flowed with ease, and it was only because Bo made me feel so damn comfortable. It was strange to feel this relaxed around her, but I didn't fight it. If anything, I embraced it. It felt so foreign, but it was something I felt like I had been missing for years and I didn't want to feel its absence again so quickly.

"I was thinking more that you are a shark and I'm a random lone fish swimming about in your territory."

I found Bo's analogy to be interesting and thought provoking, so I probed further while keeping my same playful approach. I looked around the empty bar before returning my gaze to her.

"I'd call this territory more yours than mine, wouldn't you agree?"

She shrugged knowing I was right.

"This bar? Well, maybe this bar yes. But that pool table is definitely your territory, Lauren."

She pointed at the table we had spent quite some time getting to know intimately. I certainly did know my way around a pool table but I didn't really see myself as a shark, and she was certainly not a lone fish.

"Maybe I know a thing or two about pool, but you are no random lone fish, Bo."

"And you are no unsuspecting gazelle, Lauren."

She leaned on the bar, her elbows pressing against the surface and her breasts pushing high enough to create more cleavage than her vest originally showed. The coffee mugs were off to the side but she was directly in front of me, oozing attention that was flattering and nerve wracking all the same. The view made me sit up straight. Here I sat, staring in the eyes of a lion and I could not tear myself away. If anything, I leaned forward a bit and folded my hands together, lacing my fingers together as to stop myself from fidgeting while I was caught in Bo's gaze.

I gulped while we both remained silent. I did my best to remain composed and to keep that attitude she seemed to like. I rested my forearms on the edge of the bar and stared right back at her, deciding it was my turn to say something before the silence sliced me in two.

"So what does that make us then?"

She looked up and to the right, clearly thinking about a response when her smile spread across her face. When she looked back to me, her eyes sparkled like something I wanted to look at forever.

"I'd say that makes us the lion and the shark."

I laughed and she broke her own serious voice, laughing with me. Bo was definitely a lion, and well, maybe there was a part of me that was a shark. I nodded in the affirmative, figuring that a compromise on this was the best route to go.

"The lion and the shark: two great, powerful creatures."

"Yep, and here we are," she replied.

"Yes here we are in the very same room no less. I'd call that fairly lucky."

She shook her head from side to side. That smile was prominent and I could not tear my eyes away from her.

"But remember, I don't believe in luck."

I nodded in the affirmative as I replied quickly, trying to gain an answer to my earlier question.

"Then I shall ask again: what do you believe in?"

Bo stood up slightly, removing the weight of her body from her elbows as she slid her hands on top of mine. The touch felt incredibly warm as her skin blanketed mine. The gesture felt almost romantic to me. I wasn't sure if I was reading this moment wrong or what she was about to say or do, but the feeling of her hands on mine sent chills through my body.

"I believe in magic, Lauren."

Magic. No one believed in magic like I did. There was no way I'd ever be able to explain it: how it had been that element that visited my life at extremely rare moments and always made a lasting impact. Like when I first looked up at the stars on a clear night at the age of eight and found myself mesmerized by the sight. Or when I first felt the ocean water roll across my bare feet at the age of twelve. And yes, even when I picked out my very first expensive, brand new pool cue at the age of twenty-two.

I heard magic in Bo's voice earlier in the night. The way she touched me felt like magic, and the way she responded to my touch was full of magic. And now, here she stood, telling me she believed in magic. Maybe I was just a roaming pool shark, but I somehow wandered into this lion's den and I certainly had no interest in leaving. That in itself was magic. So yeah, maybe there was more to this than I could possibly ignore. Maybe Bo Dennis was the best kind of magic, and maybe I had to stick around a little longer to see just what happens when a lion and a shark occupy the same space for any length of time.

I smiled and settled back in to my bar stool, deciding that there was only one way to find out.

"Magic."

I said just that one word as a statement and my smile quickly followed. I looked at her and I felt like magic was possible because in that moment, her eyes were fixed on mine causing my heart to thump wildly in my chest. Those dark brown eyes spoke to me without words, moving me to feel an excessive amount of emotions without overthinking them. Never did I feel like I was drowning by taking too many deep breaths, but never had I met a woman so exquisite that I literally questioned everything I had experienced in life until that very moment.

"Do you believe in magic, Lauren?"

Her words came across like a whisper but there was confidence in her tone that dared me to agree. After all, it wasn't a typical everyday conversation that people had, about magic. And truthfully it was a question of varying capacity anyway. But there was no way I could deny the concept of magic had already crossed my mind with her earlier that night. So with just as much confidence in my tone as she held, I accepted her dare and replied with my unwavering agreement.

"Believe in magic? I certainly do."

"Really?" she replied as her eye brow raised high upon her forehead.

I nodded confidently.

"Really. Have dinner with me tonight, and I'll prove it."

The blush that spread across her face appeared as fast as that brilliant smile of hers. I knew in that moment she would say yes. She looked down at my hand still gripping hers with care, and the slow nod that followed was the beginning of her accepting my offer. She tilted her head back again, just enough to make eye contact with me once more.

"What do you say? Give this shark a dinner date?" I asked playfully.

"On one condition," she replied.

"Name it."

She tightened her grip on my hand and bit her lower lip, carefully thinking of how to reply. I didn't even speculate what her "one condition" was going to be; instead I simply waited for her to tell me. Those two minutes that passed seemed more like twenty, but I certainly enjoyed memorizing all her features while she carefully chose her wording. Those brown eyes glistened under the bar lights, her dimple never faded nor did her smile, and each swipe of her tongue over her lower lip pushed me closer and closer to melting into a puddle on that bar stool.

"I'll give this shark a dinner date, only if you give this lion a game of pool afterwards."

It was the easiest request I would be happy to fulfill. A beautiful woman was accepting my dinner date and prompting me for a game of pool afterwards? If there was ever such a thing as magic, this was certainly it.

"You're speaking my language, Bo Dennis."

We both laughed, the tension thick with want and arousal. The excitement of possibility swirled inside me, and I was thrilled to see the same type of reaction from her.

"Excellent. Sounds like we have a date then."

I nodded and smiled before replying, knowing that more time with Bo was on my horizon. Maybe there was some luck in there. Maybe there was some magic. Maybe it was a little of both. It really didn't matter. What mattered was that we had a date later that night, and I was honestly the happiest shark to have ever met a lion like Bo Dennis.

"Yes, we certainly do."

xxxx

 _I don't own the characters or the show - just borrowed them for this scenario._


End file.
